Lifting his gaze, Milo shook his head.I don’t know. I think I fucked up.
Proud of him for recognising the problem, Keon wrapped his arms around Milo.I’ve got you.Milo shakily slid onto his lap as close as possible to bury his face in Keon’s neck.How bad does it hurt? Do you need the herbs?
No,he replied, a hitch masking the end of his emotional rope.It doesn’t hurt, because I’m numb. I feel like I’m shaking on the inside. I’m fine when I’m a m’weko, but this body feels weak.Milo sniffed and nuzzled at his neck, seeking comfort.
He was right; his body was shaking, but they couldn’t blame a stress reaction or nerve misfire, because the camp was warm and he was fully clothed. Nothing logical could have caused this, but his condition had neverbeenlogical.
Keon ran his hands over Milo’s arms to remind his body it was warm, safe, with nothing to panic about. Covering the bases. He wished Milo could have brought his wheelchair, but it had been impractical and awkward. At this rate, he wouldn’t be strong enough to shift, but if push came to shove, Keon would carry him home.
He closed his eyes and sent what strength and love he had through their bond, filled with warmth when Milo relaxed and surrendered the internal struggle. He gave everything to Keon and trusted him to handle it with care. Slipping his hands under Milo’s jumper, Keon pressed skin-to-skin contact to strengthen the bond.
When a throat cleared and Milo lifted his head, he was almost asleep and the shaking had subsided. “Hey, bug.” He smiled at his sister, using the pet name freely, despite her hatred of it, and offered his hand.
Haley shoved a bowl of stew at him, a luxury now the danger was over. As Milo accepted it and invited her to join them, she sat cross-legged on the ground, peeking through her fringe. “Thanks for coming to get me.” She’d finger-brushed her hair and retied it. She looked refreshed, though Keon guessed an emotional storm brewed under the surface.
“Did you sleep?” he asked, though she looked wrung out and raw from her experience. The hair was a good sign. A reminder she’d pulled herself together, was fighting through her emotions, and trying to present herself as ‘fine’. She wasn’t, and that was normal and okay, but Haley was strong and this was another reminder of that inner strength.
Milo slid off his lap onto the log to eat, as Janet handed Keon his bowl and crossed to sit by the fire with Isaac.
“A bit.”
Keon focused on eating and let her swirl a spoon through her stew. How worried should he be? Milo had said she was ready to talk, but she’d barely said a word to anyone but Isaac, sticking close to her mate. Keon needed to know everything, no matter how stupid, embarrassed, or guilty it made her feel. “Did they hurt you?” He avoided eye contact to make it a less invasive question.
Haley nibbled her bottom lip, lifting her straight-cut fringe to reveal a nasty bruise. The one caused by Valora smacking her head into the wall.
“Anything else?” he checked, glad the head wound was healing. He was relieved when Haley shook her head and absently rubbed her wrist, where burn marks scarred the skin. Probably from the rope she’d been bound with. They would heal with time, on her next shift to m’weko.
They fell into a comfortable silence with the knowledge she was mentally and emotionally beaten, but not physically harmed. The trust she showed, admitting it, was the most important part.
When they’d finished eating, Keon took her bowl to put beside his on the ground and sank to his knees in front of her. He’d never had a sister, or a younger brother, but he’d come to care for Haley despite her attitude. She was a young, feisty woman who knew her mind and her heart. She struggled to reconcile who she was with what society—in particular, Vihaan society—expected of her. She’d do well in Dnara, where women had greater freedom, but he hoped to show her the pack could provide the same freedoms.
Careful not to startle her, Keon lay his hands palm-up, waiting. Haley took a breath before placing her hands on his, where Keon adjusted his grip to rub his thumbs over the marks on her wrists. “Milo’s taking good care of the head bump. We can’t do anything else to help, and these will heal with time.” He stared into sea-green eyes to check she was listening. “You’re brave, Haley.”
Raising an eyebrow, she scoffed and looked into the distance.
“I’m not bullshitting you,” Keon admitted, though he could have. “You got in over your head, were hurt and scared, but you protected yourself, endured, and survived. When we get home, I’ll teach you how to fight opponents twice your size.” That was a promise. One he’d sworn to fulfil for Milo.
Haley frowned, not wanting to believe him, but she must have realised he meant every word, because she tipped her head. “Thank you.”
Keon shook his head, refusing the thanks. She needed the self-defence to feel safe. He didn’t want her thinking hard about his words, wanting them to sink in, to resonate, when she’d have time to think it over and accept she hadn’t been at fault. Whatever part she’d played, she’d had no intention of letting it escalate.
“Don’t thank me. You got caught in this because of me.” Keon continued the caress of fingers over her injuries, wanting to help her get accustomed to someone else touching her in a non-threatening way. To remind her not everyone who touched her would hurt her. The Alpha was a good starting point.
She’d need time to recover from Vega’s violation of her personal space, of her trust, from the scent-marking. He hoped this would help, as someone she didn’t fully trust, someone bigger, scarier.
He hated being seen as a stranger, but he’d work to fix their relationship. Not for Milo’s sake. Not anymore. For hers. To give Haley the family she’d lost, by moving to his pack. To make her part of his new family. Which meant, as much as he wanted to give her time to rest and recover, he had to reintroduce her to the idea of another man being this close or she’d never cope. She couldn’t forget the years of casual contact in her past, trusting without realising or second-guessing, to remember how tactile m’weko were. One day, someone would forget she’d been hurt.
It needed to be Keon. She was used to Milo’s contact, and Isaac was her mate. Neither would help her as much as his unfamiliar contact, no matter how innocent.
“No.” Haley’s voice cracked, but she met his gaze and shook her head. “You’re a good leader. Whether the Fates meant it, it’s who you are,” she said, tears welling. “Maybe they always meant you to have this long, hard road, because it made you more humble and honest. Whatever the plan, this is meant to be. Like you and Milo,” she said, the nicest words she’d spoken to him.
His emotions rose to the occasion as he lifted her hands to his mouth and kissed the marks on her wrists. “Thank you, petal.” He winked, testing the new nickname, more mature than Milo’s and fitting this new change. She was becoming a beautiful young woman, if she gave herself time and space to grow.
Though, she was wiser than he gave her credit for. “Do you think…” She glanced at Isaac and cleared her throat.
“Connections when you’re young aren’t common, but possible,” Keon replied, pleased she’d sensed the bond after spending time with Isaac. “I first knew Vega was my true mate when I was thirteen.”
Haley hugged her knees. “I think I knew. I wanted to be his friend, to learn who he was,” she confessed, bravely for someone fresh from an ordeal.
